


The edge of almost there

by mysterious_intentions



Category: Girl Meets World
Genre: Angst?, Extended Scene, F/M, I wrote these in 2015 on tumblr, Scene rewrites, and figured it'd be better archived here instead of lost on an inactive tumblr, this show needed a season 4
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-04-18
Updated: 2020-04-18
Packaged: 2021-03-01 17:20:20
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 4
Words: 5,526
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23720713
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/mysterious_intentions/pseuds/mysterious_intentions
Summary: Lucas doesn’t know what he’s saying. Doesn’t understand the magnitude of his promise and the basic principle that good things just don’t happen to Maya Hart. By her books, Lucas Friar is one of those good things.Collection of scene re-writes or scene extensions featuring Lucas and Maya's most iconic moments. [Reposted from tumblr 2015]
Relationships: Lucas Friar/Maya Hart
Comments: 11
Kudos: 97





	1. Girl Meets Smoothie

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Girl Meets Texas Part 3: Season 2, Episode 22

* * *

Her lips press tightly together, bottom lip rolled underneath the upper. On impulse his eyes flicker to them, captivated by the movement and distracted by the wet sheen on her lips. The weight of her gaze, however, doesn’t go unnoticed, and he trails up her face until he meets icy blue.

An involuntary shiver runs down his spine. Even though he knows Maya’s threats are more shield than sword, he knows that they’re not empty. _You’ve got that right, I ain’t bluffing Huckleberry,_ her eyes challenge him—he swears that they’re practically _smirking._

He gulps, fidgeting with his hands as he wracks his brain for answers. What’s the right answer? What does she want him to say? _Who_ does she want him to be? His thoughts tumble and trip over each other until his mind is a tangled mess, no coherent words in sight. Gah, this won’t do. His lips twitch into a frown and sweat pools in the creases between his fingers; panic rises in his chest like an inflating balloon. She’s not saying anything, but he _knows_ her patience is stretching thin like a rubber band and he’s honestly not all that interesting of a person and doesn’t know how to impress her—oh, wait.

Something glimmers within the chaos and he grasps onto it. Follow the motions and become who you need to be, who everybody _wants_ you to be, he reminds himself. He shifts towards Maya, and even though it feels a little strained, pulls on a smile. His voice pitches slightly higher, soothingly soft, and he produces his line,

“Did I ever tell you once I delivered a baby horse?”

Maya smiles. Time pauses, his optimistic half hopes the feeling running through him is relief, while the other half of Lucas inwardly groans. He recognizes her smile as plastered plastic and he has about 1.3 seconds to resign himself to his fate.

Sure enough, the smile slips off her face and the smoothie poised in front of her chest soars above his head and yup, she certainly wasn’t bluffing. A pink waterfall cascades down his face, and even as his eyes reflexively close he feels something thick and sticky coating his eyelashes. _Cold, cold, cold_ , is all that’s running through his head. He breathes through his mouth lest the drink rushes up his nose. Well okay, he guesses he had it coming and— his breath hitches, the second smoothie a genuine surprise as it flows down the back of his head and slithers past his collar to his bare back. A new wave of _cold, cold, cold_ pervades his thoughts.

He can’t help but wonder what went wrong. No one’s really explaining much of anything, and lately, “confused” is his most common state. He’s trying to figure it out though, he really is, his deductions include: Maya realizes he recycled a story he shared on a date with Riley, she really doesn’t care about his animal birthing experiences, or maybe it’s something else, he has no idea! Understanding girls isn’t part of his Scholar Athlete reward.

He opens his eyes, blinking rapidly as he gives himself a quick once-over. Pink globs of smoothie dribble down his hair and soaking splotches decorate his shirt.

“Actually, it looked kinda like this,” he remarks offhandedly. Oddly enough, he’s not surprised that he’s more amused than upset. That’s how it usually turns out to be when he’s with Maya.

It dawns on him that he still hasn’t seen her reaction and he turns to look at her. She’s…absolutely _giddy:_ grinning from ear-to-ear as if she had just unwrapped the best Christmas present in her entire life. There’s a familiar light dancing in her bright blue eyes, and at the sight of such an overwhelmingly happy Maya, Lucas can’t help but grin himself. He’s taken a sort of pride in being the only one to see that special, possibly dangerous glint in her eyes…that, and he finds her surprises kind of…fun. Sometimes, it really is just that simple.

“The miracle of life,” he tacks on the punch line, and he seems to still be on the right track because she continues to beam. He waggles his eyebrows and matches her smile.

If all it takes is two smoothies to make her smile like that, he guesses it’s a small price to pay. Besides, he looks good in pink. Next time, however, he’s ordering them water.

* * *


	2. Girl Meets Forgiveness

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Girl Meets Forgiveness Project: Season 2, Episode 23

* * *

“No,” she announces. To Mr. Matthews. To the class. To her father. The rejection rolls off her tongue with practiced nonchalance, she throws her hands in the air for good measure. “No” is the right answer—she knows it is, even as she’s suddenly acutely aware of her heart thumping against her chest.

“Don’t you think now would be a good time…?” The suggestion comes from behind her. His voice is soft; he tapers off and lets the rest of the words fall away.

It starts in the tensing of her shoulders, travels down the taut muscles of her back, and courses to her tightly clasped hands. Every other time, she has a sharp retort ready on her lips and fierce fists to go with them. But this, this brand of _anger_ is not the kind to expose. She keeps the fire under her skin, wrapping her heart in more bandages.

Maya Hart is a lot of things. But she’s no lollipop, no weakling, and certainly _not_ vulnerable.

And she intends to inform Lucas Friar of exactly that.

Maya whips around, narrowing her eyes and mustering up her firmest glare. _You’re stepping out of line, Huckleberry_ , she conveys, adding on an intimidating glower.

But he doesn’t flinch, doesn’t back down. He hops over the wall she hastily erected and looks for the truth. It’s not pity in his eyes, nor determination. His green eyes hold nothing but gentle warmth, his attention fixated on her like she’s his—

She cuts herself off. Instead, she watches him fiddle with his pen in her periphery, sweat no doubt coating the plastic exterior and in the spaces between his fingers. Strangely enough, the nervous habit makes her feel a little better: her Huckleberry is as anxious about her father as she is.

The anger thrumming under her skin simmers and her shoulders drop. She’s used to being the butt of the joke. She takes it—she wants to be tough, and it’s easier to entertain the sarcasm and wit than it is to acknowledge her fragility. _Go ahead, feel what you want to feel,_ his eyes say. Her heart is a fiery fortress not to keep her emotions reigned in, but to protect herself. She knows this. And perhaps Lucas knows this too. Trembling fingers unravel the first bandage.

She finds herself considering his suggestion.

“You and your mom are at a good place. You’re strong Maya. Don’t you want to forgive him one day? Why not now?”

Riley’s voice is gentle, but her words are colored in black and white. It’s Riley’s nature to fix things, to think of things in terms of only two options: is this right or is this wrong? Maya can feel Lucas watching her as the irritation strikes back. Why not now?

Because he doesn’t deserve it. Because she’s not willing to give it. Because her father doesn’t earn forgiveness simply because she and her mother climbed to a better place. _By themselves._

Her pencil scratches against the paper in a flurry of words.

She loves Riley, she really does. But this is not her place if she doesn’t understand. Hope is for suckers. She knows she can count on that more than her father.

She doesn’t know how Lucas almost deluded her.

* * *


	3. Girl Meets the New Year

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Girl Meets the New Year: Season 2, Episode 25

* * *

“He’s like a creepy, creep creep!” Lucas exclaims, his eyebrows knitting together as Charlie’s tight-lipped smile settles into a smug smirk.

It’s not his best comeback. (Oh Lucas, you know how to banter much better than that, has she taught him nothing?) The look in his eyes is wild, defensive even, and not exactly befitting of the princely image he always carries around. Maya doesn’t need to turn around to know what, or more specifically _who_ , got him so worked up that he needed to hop off his white horse. 

Heat radiates off him, literally from his skin, and also in the glare he practically burns Charlie Gardner with. His breathing borders on ragged, and in her peripheral vision she can see the tight set of his jaw. It’s obvious. So obvious what he’s feeling.

Even without her close proximity, anyone with eyes or ears can pick up the emotions he isn’t bothering to conceal. Something shrivels within her, a strange, cold sensation pin-pricking through her heart.

She wishes she could say it’s a foreign feeling.

Deep down in her heart, she knows that she inserted herself into a story that isn’t hers. It’s always been Riley and Lucas, Lucas and Riley. His unbridled jealousy reminds her that she’s only a chapter in this fairy tale book. From the bottom of her soul, she _does_ want nothing more than for her friends to be happy. She just…wishes her heart didn’t have to be so wrung out in the process.

“Why are you interested?” She asks plainly, too tired to dance circles around him.

To her surprise, his gaze immediately snaps to hers. “I’m not!” He insists, placing a hand over his heart.

Maya almost raises an eyebrow. She’s not a fish that readily bites the hook, but there’s a detectable amount of sincerity in his declaration, and Lucas Friar is quickly bumping himself in the spot next to Riley Matthews in the list of “people who Maya Hart has a soft spot for.” She holds her tongue, dropping eye contact and leaning towards the box of cards.

“Okay, wanna pick a card for us?” She suggests.

“Yeah,” he huffs, calmer, but still riding on the last wave of irritation from Charlie’s goading.

“How would you describe your personality? Library or campfire?” Lucas pauses. “Oh, well, you know,” he begins casually…and then abruptly stuffs the card in his mouth, using his fingers to folds in the edges.

Astonished, Maya scrunches up her eyebrows. She fights the urge to roll her eyes; he’s being ridiculously dramatic. It’s not like his answer would have ruined friendships or anything like that.

“Huckleberry it’s just a game,” she admonishes, plucking the pack of cards from his grasp.

Maya randomly picks one in the middle, the paper smooth against her fingers as she pulls it out with a quick _fwip._

“Is it possible to love two people at same time?” She reads dully. The question sinks in once she comes up with the answer. Maya freezes, feeling the weight of multiple pairs of eyes on her.

She instinctively turns towards the pair calling most strongly for her attention. He’s sidled so close to her that she sees the flecks of light reflecting off his green eyes and smells the mint cologne wafting off of him. Their eyes meet; he stops chewing his card to scrutinize her, waiting patiently for her to speak.

A boy with a charming smile and messy brown hair blips into her thoughts. But as she’s staring into Lucas’ expectant gaze, finds that the image shifts to herself, him, and Riley tangled up in a mess of red string.

She doesn’t waste a single second.

The card jams against her front teeth until she presses at the middle and crams it into the back of her mouth. 

Lucas lifts his brows. In the slight twist of his lips, Maya can hear him protest, “ _You ate your card too!”_

It tastes awful to say the least—chewy, she thinks, as she grinds the paper card into pulp. Using her tongue, she prods the card over her back molars to minimize contact with her taste buds.

The initial surprise in Lucas’ expression peters off, and his forehead furrows as he realizes something. _You didn’t answer the question,_ he frowns, the hurt openly shining in his eyes. He pouts like a wounded puppy, as if she had somehow betrayed him. It’s not fair, she wants to say, she didn’t make a scene after he made such a loud spectacle of himself with Gardner. Like _he_ has the right to feel upset when he can’t verbally confirm anything for her—there’s only so much she can glean from silent conversations.

“Our turn!” Smackle chirps.

Maya is relieved when Lucas whips his head towards Farkle and Smackle, effectively cutting their little talk short.

She wonders how long this can keep up. How long can they dispose of the tough questions by swallowing their words? She doesn’t know what to do. So, she continues to do what she _does_ know and chews in silence.

* * *


	4. The space between us

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Scene extension of Girl Meets the New Year: Season 2, Episode 25

* * *

The midnight air sends prickles onto her neck, but she keeps her hands rooted in her pockets. It’s not like she’s really cold anyways, her mind a little too cluttered and heart a little too bruised (just a _little_ , she thinks her heart’s gotten treaded on enough for her to develop some durability), to think about trivial matters like the temperature. 

She should have gone home like she said she would, but she didn’t exactly want to start the New Year curled into her bed and moping. (Not _crying,_ just moping, she reaffirms). Instead, she walked the streets of New York. Pacing through mini parks, the small trees and shrubbery coloring the city with tiny pockets of greenery. Fishing out change for the homeless man, she wanted everyone else to have a little more hope for the New Year. Wandering through street by street, avenue by avenue, and getting frustrated when the heaviness in her chest only seemed to rise up to tighten in her throat and water in her eyes.

So here she is, back in the very location she had run away from a scant hour ago. This is probably not one of her best ideas.

As if on command, the rooftop door creaks open and Maya curses under her breath, knowing she’s much too in the open for a sneaky escape. (Part of her knows she only returned for the sliver of a chance that he hadn’t left, but now that her instinct had become reality, she wishes she had run when she could have).

“…Maya?” Comes the all too familiar voice.

She keeps silent, teeth biting her bottom lip even as he walks towards her and she catches the unmistakable scent of his citrusy, pine cologne. He stops besides her, a careful two feet of space between them.

“So…you didn’t head home?” He asks, starting off with the obvious questions.

“No, Lucas,” she replies reluctantly. She feels like she might as well complete the cycle of small talk and inquires, “Why didn’t you head home either?”

Maya’s still staring straight ahead at the nighttime cityscape, but she can see him shrug in the corner of her eye. “Didn’t feel like it yet,” he answers, “though I know my Mama is gonna put me in the shed when I get home.”

A smirk threatens to split her lips, but she hides it well, concealing her side profile by brushing forward a curtain of hair. 

Silence settles between them after that, a different kind of quiet than the two times in Topanga’s. Those silences were stifling— something like a fog hanging over them as time ticked by slowly and she sat there thinking she should leave; she still doesn’t quite understand why she didn’t. 

This silence, however, is charged with too many unspoken words layered in private intimacy and she’s scared. Scared scared scared of what may come out of her mouth and leak out of her guarded heart.

“So…did you make a New Year’s Resolution?” Lucas pipes up lightly.

Maya huffs a short laugh, and it’s funny how such a stupid line can make her fears dissipate simply because it’s _such_ a Huckleberry thing to say.

“What a Huckleberry thing to say,” the reply rolls off her tongue, a wry smile tugs at the corner of her lips despite herself. After Farkle’s huge reveal, the awkward love-triangle gathering on that bench, the rush of Maya excusing herself, the trepidation pounding against her rib cage as she thinks about how everything’s changing so so so _fast_ and if only she hid her dumb feelings a little better _none_ of this would have happened—this, this is what Lucas has to say.

When he realizes she’s not replying any time soon, he prods again, “Did you?”

Maya scrunches up her eyebrows, it dawns on her that his question may hold more depth than its surface level ridiculousness. “Why do you ask?”

Lucas turns to look at her for the first time since he stepped besides her, green eyes shining with warm softness. Something terrifyingly similar to “warm and fuzzy” overwhelms her heart. Her feet move a step back, hands closing into fists in her pockets.

“Just wondering…if you have any sort of plan for what we’re going to make of all,” he gestures vaguely in the air, “This.”

Ugh. He wants to talk about it. So much for that false sense of security. Stupid Lucas and how he always coaxes her into letting her guard down.

“No,” she clips back too quickly, “Didn’t think much about it,” she lies through her teeth.

It doesn’t matter whether or not she does, because he raises an eyebrow and says, “I don’t think that’s the truth, Maya.”

 _It is_ , she wants to insist again, but he’s leaning closer—less than two feet between them— and has weariness in the furrow of his brow and firmness in the set of his jaw. Maya sighs, pinching the bridge of her nose and exhaling a long breath. She remembers what happened in Texas when she tried to deny it anyways.

She swivels away from him, blonde hair swishing behind her, and keeps her gaze trained on the building across the street. Yellow lights illuminate at least half the windows, and even if Maya tilts her head, the buildings in the back are also lit in glowing squares.

“You see these buildings?” Maya points to the complex across from Riley’s, Lucas follows her finger. 

“Yeah…?” Lucas nods.

“When we look at them from far away, they’re pretty right? A bunch of cool-looking black buildings with glowing yellow dots splattered all over them. It’s like a night sky. Almost magical, if I believed in that kinda stuff. We admire how beautiful everything looks when you see it as a picture, but you know what? In each of those buildings there are families, you know, real life people like you and me who are lot more than a yellow dot. Anyways,” Maya tucks a strand of hair behind her ears, knowing that she got sidetracked. She’s not quite sure why, but she feels the weight of Lucas’s gaze on her.

“I want all of those people to be taken care of. To be happy. If I can help make someone else a bit happier, then at least my life…will be worthwhile to someone.”

“Maya—”

“Riley,” she interrupts with, giving Lucas a pointed look. He shuts his mouth, but watches her with an intensity that makes her stomach do flips when it really shouldn’t. “Riley is the world to me. You hear me? _The world._ I want to give Riley an endless supply of happy days.”

Her hands slip out of her pocket and fall by her sides. She closes her eyes and allows images of people to flip through her mind. “And my mom, her too. And the Matthews. And Zay. And Farkle, even though he was so nosy and just made whatever _this_ was,” she gestures towards the space between them without opening her eyes, “about one thousand times more confusing. He’s still a little bird that needs to be protected. And of course there’s also…there’s also…”

She freezes. Blue eyes flutter open and she looks up at the night sky— grey, blanketed by one giant cloud that conceals all the stars. 

Everyone is so easy to tick off her list. Why can’t she finish? She was doing so well. Her heart intervenes, telling her it’s not too late. She can still run away. She can still conjure up some excuse to head home before her mother gets upset with her and leave this dreadful roof.

But a niggling voice in the back of her head tells her she can’t. That if she does, they’ll never leave this stupid cycle of walking in circles and she’ll have lost so much hair from running her fingers through it. _Come on, you have to rip the Band-Aid quickly_.

“…Maya?” Lucas’s voice goes soft, and he’s using that gentle tone of his that she’s never heard for anyone else and _for fuck’s sake_ she shouldn’t be so bowled over by this.

“What’s wrong Maya?” His three stupid words are saturated with so much unnecessary concern that she feels tears prick her eyes.

Her hands find the opposite elbow; she clings to herself as her arms fold below her chest.

“And you,” she blurts out while her voice still holds steady. “I also want you, Lucas, to have an endless supply of happy days.”

Maya knows that for this part she needs to look at him, so she sucks in her breath and paints on her serious face. It’s a mistake, she realizes belatedly, because he’s honed in on her like she’s the only thing in the world and her mind wanders to Texas. To exposed secrets and campfires and the way the light danced in his heated eyes as he pulled her in so close and she has to shut down that train of thought. _Stop it Maya, stop making things up that aren’t really there._

She swallows thickly and accepts her reality. “You said earlier that you don’t know who you’re waiting for. Well I’m going to break it down and make it easy for you. It’s Riley. It’s Riley that you’re waiting for.”

Maya blinks, she feels…okay. This is the right thing to do. Lucas, however, presses his lips into a thin line like another truck of confusion had hit him.

“I want you to be happy, Lucas. And the best way for you to be happy is to be with Riley. With Riley, it’s literally _impossible_ to not be happy around her. She can brighten your day because she’s a ball of sunshine and bursting at the seams with love. You can go to movies with her and watch her bite the heads off the gummy bears and grab your arm at the scary trailers even when it’s just suspenseful music but it’ll be _adorable_ and you’ll love it, you’ll be happy with her. She can actually _fix_ things while I…I,” Maya gulps, breathing evenly to quell the tremble, “I tear everything down. Okay? In the long game, I don’t…I _can’t_ make people happy.”

Uncrossing her arms, she makes vague motions with her hands. “We’ve been ‘together,’ kind of. And you never really told me why, but it’s fine because I already know.”

His breath hitches, and it’s audible enough for Maya to pause in her speech to scrutinize his features. Shoulders tense, back rigid, and hands fidgeting with the hem of his shirt…he appears…nervous? She pushes off the thought. There’s no need for him to be so nervous, it’s not really a secret anyways.

“I already know it’s because you don’t want to hurt my feelings, you’re a good guy like that,” Lucas’s eyebrows knit together like he’s puzzled, but Maya brushes that off too, “And I was selfish to accept your confused heart and take advantage of your little moral compass brain because I just…wanted to try— sometimes, I wish I could be… I wish that _I_ could be the one who…” she trails off, releasing a resigned sigh. “Actually, never mind,” she leaves it at that.

Lucas doesn’t need to know anyways. The two feet of comfortable space between them becomes one, and with him leaning down it feels like it’s actually inches. Maya abruptly twists around, facing the buildings across the roof again.

“So I’m sorry. Sorry for getting in the way and tangling up everything and for causing this whole mess. Now that that’s over, you can go back to her,” she announces, voice strong and confident, she can’t even detect a single crack herself.

Not a single tear sheds; Maya pats herself on the back as the bitter smile stretches across her lips. She thought it’d be worse after sprawling out all the facts on the table. But it’s actually not so bad—she already knew that happy endings aren’t for her: she’s no princess, and she’s not getting a prince and doesn’t _need_ one. Those thoughts have been stewing in her head for who knows how long, breaking the reality down for Lucas is just the final step. 

“That was all my New Year Resolution by the way, making everybody happy. I’m not sure how good at it I’ll be, but I’ll try. Same resolution, same wish. For every New Year’s and birthday and wishing well and dandelion,” she laughs, it’s breathy and not quite real but she hopes he buys it. “Now that’s _two_ nice things I’ve said to you. Don’t get your hopes up for more.” 

Maya’s said her piece; she thinks that she’s covered all the bases. Without looking back at him, she walks away, gaze unfocused as she barely registers one foot stepping in front of the other.

Something warm encircles her arm and tugs her backwards. She stumbles a bit, although manages to prevent herself from falling. With a roll of her eyes, she plasters on a teasing smile, “Come on Huckleberry, first you interrupt my dramatic ‘staring off into the horizon’ scene, and now you won’t let me make my dramatic exit.”

“Ask me what my resolution is,” he states, completely ignoring her. His voice is low and serious, he’s not playing the game with her, and his eyes glisten with the one-track passion he had when her art classes were being taken away.

Maya sighs, “Huckleberry, haven’t I already done enough of that whole ‘emotional vulnerability’ thing?”

“No,” he responds.

Maya huffs, her breath coming out in a puff before disappearing in the night chill. “Alright, fine Ranger Rick. What’s your New Year’s resolution?”

There’s a beat of silence, Maya wonders why he wanted her to ask if he had nothing to say. 

Then, she hears it. A quiet calming inhale right before he declares, “I want you, Maya, to be happy. My resolution is to make you happier than you’ve ever been in your life.”

“Oh come on, you totally copied me,” she deflects, she’s ruining the moment, but that’s the best way for her to deal with his sincerity. “Except not as well because you didn’t even add anyone else.”

“I’m not adding anyone else,” he affirms, “I’m going to need all the energy I can get for just this resolution.” 

His eyes are locked on hers, his hand still hasn’t released her arm and it’s actually sliding higher to her shoulder and to an average person it looks like nothing but a simple gesture but no. _No._ Her racing heart is telling her otherwise and all the fears and scariness from earlier crash into her like a cold, salty wave. Right there, it clicks. It’s not just what she reveals from her own mouth that scares her but what Lucas will _do_ with it. Every piece he gives to her she returns two-fold, and once he holds all of her heart and _breaks_ it, she doesn’t know how long it’ll take to find the shattered pieces.

Lucas doesn’t know what he’s saying. Doesn’t understand the magnitude of his promise and the basic principle that good things just _don’t_ happen to Maya Hart. By her books, Lucas Friar is one of those good things.

“Please don’t make that resolution, Lucas,” she whispers, averting his gaze and looking down at her boots.

She hears him sigh, “Do you trust me, Maya?”

The answer jumps to her mind immediately, there’s no extra thinking of processing involved. Answering him out loud, however, is a whole different story.

As she stays silent, refusing to look at him or relax in his hold, he asks again. This time, the desperation rings clear, “Maya please answer me, do you trust me?”

She screws her eyes shut and bites her lip before replying, “Yes. Yes I do.”

His grip on her loosens, and she lets him when she takes his other hand to gently tip up her chin. “Then believe in me, Maya. If your resolution is to make everyone else happy, why is it so hard to believe if I’m doing the same for you?”

 _Because if you’re with me you won’t be happy. You’ll leave eventually; it’s just what happens._

“I want to Lucas. I do want to believe you. But I can’t, because you’re asking me to hope, and if there’s one thing I know more than anything it’s that hope is for suckers.”

“Maya—”

“Don’t fight me on this Lucas. I already put my heart through too much, it’s time that I protect it again.”

His mouth hangs slightly ajar; he blinks rapidly as a light bulb goes off in his head.

“Wait…did I hurt you, Maya? Am I hurting you right now?”

He’s visibly upset now, lips curled into a tight frown and breathing coming out heavy. Honestly, an upset Lucas is making her distraught too. Though, it’s not enough to make her want to answer. She stays quiet.

Turns out she doesn’t need to, he always manages to read her anyways.

“I’m sorry…about everything. I’m not worth it okay?” His fingers brush through his hair. “I don’t want to be the cause of all this, all this pain and confusion that I’m putting you and Riley through. Neither of you deserve this.” Lucas breathes out a shaky sigh, and Maya’s short, but she can see the glassy sheen that’s glazing his eyes. “I’m not as good as I try to be, or special, or anything like that. I’m not that interesting of a person, if it weren’t for my ‘fortunate arrangement of genes’ would anyone really be interested? If I wasn’t the person that everyone wants me to be would anyone even like me? I lied to Riley when I told her I was worth it— I knew it was just what she wanted to hear and I was sorta drowning in dirty bucket water but it was a lie and still _is_ a lie and—”

His skin feels warm underneath her palms, her fingers tingling as she gently strokes his cheekbones.

“Shut up, Lucas,” Maya says softly. His eyes are wide, surprised, and still frenzied from unleashing his tirade. Maya’s small hands cup Lucas’s face, she rubs circles on his skin with her thumb until his eyes lose their panic and gain a clouded, hooded look.

“Forget about all this complicated stuff happening around us. Let’s get one thing straight here. It doesn’t matter if you stayed on that stupid bull for half a second, doesn’t matter if you got expelled from school, doesn’t matter what the _reason_ is for why you got expelled from school. You are _always_ a person who is worth it.”

She drops her hands from his face and takes a step back. He fumbles with his words for a minute, but manages to croak out, “Thank you Maya.” The words are hushed yet honest, his sincerity ringing clearly. 

A smile slips onto her face, it’s a fleeting thought, but she wonders if he could possibly trust her as much as she does him.

There’s nothing else she’s ready to say, so she turns her back to him and proceeds to make her dramatic exit.

“You are too,” Lucas calls after her.

She stops, angling her head back. “Why are you speaking in puzzles, Hop-Along?”

“You’re always a person who is worth it. Don’t fight me on this, Maya,” he warns when she opens her mouth, “Which is why I’m not changing my resolution.”

There’s no snappy retort, no flustered dismissal this time. Instead, Maya shoots him a little half smile, their eyes meeting for a silent conversation.

_I want you to be happy, Maya._

_Thank you, Huckleberry._

As she’s trudging down the staircase and certain that there’s no one watching, she lets the stray tears slip down her cheeks. It’s only a few, falling in a straight line down the corner of her eyes and no doubt smudging her mascara. Damn, she was so close to holding it all together too. Stupid Lucas and his stupid resolution and stupid sincerity. Stupid heart and its stupid desire for silly things like hope and love and _happiness_ and all those stupid things. (Even if she can’t admit that she believes him, deep down in her heart she knows she does, and she’s scared. Scared scared scared to believe in hope.)

* * *


End file.
